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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852573">Temporary Lodging</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelEvangilineCarson/pseuds/NoelEvangilineCarson'>NoelEvangilineCarson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Worst Witch (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5 star worm hotel, Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, dimity deserves all the girlfriends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:06:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelEvangilineCarson/pseuds/NoelEvangilineCarson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"As Dimity hobbled back to the Academy, it occurred to her that the hard surface of the glass jar may not be comfortable to a worm, after all, they were built to dig around in the dirt, even if they were magically transformed. A quick detour to the compost heap wouldn’t hurt."</p>
<p>Dimity has turned Arabella into a worm. Now what?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Drill/Hempnettle (Worst Witch), Starabella - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Temporary Lodging</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And you can stay in there until the Games Committee deal with you,” Dimity said to the worm, chuckling. “Now go on, Enid. Enjoy your victory!”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Miss Drill,” said Enid, “for everything.”</p>
<p>Enid bustled off with Mildred and Maud in tow, waving to the roaring crowd.</p>
<p>“Now,” Dimity said, raising the jar containing one Arabella Hempnettle, “it’s off to the Witch World Games office with you.”</p>
<p>Dimity leaned on her cane as she turned to face the portal back to Cackle’s and paused. With her magical muscle injury, the trip to the Games office would be difficult to say the least. She supposed she could post her wormy nemesis, but all matter of things could go wrong in transport. No, she would have to make the journey the Ordinary way. A mirror call to Julie Hubble was in order.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As she hobbled back to the Academy, it occurred to her that the hard surface of the glass jar may not be comfortable to a worm, after all, they were built to dig around in the dirt, even if they were magically transformed. A quick detour to the compost heap wouldn’t hurt.</p>
<p>At the compost heap, Dimity conjured another container. This one was approximately thesize of a fishbowl with plenty of room to move around. Locating the trowel, Dimity set to work. First, she laid in some pebbles for water drainage. Then, she added mulch and some of the soil from the planter boxes. That was followed by a generous amount of compost and some of the manure Algernon had used to grow his roses. She topped it off with some more topsoil, watered it, and then gently dumped Arabella into her her hand and lifted her to eye level.</p>
<p>“This doesn’t mean I like you,” Dimity said, and placed the worm into the terrarium.</p>
<p>As the long fleshy body disappeared into the soil, Dimity gazed at the container. It needed something. Hands on her hips, she examined the garden around her, and an idea struck her.</p>
<p>When she finally finished, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow across the garden that glimmered on the wind chimes. Dimity sat back on her heels to inspect her work. Atop the worm hotel, she had created a tiny garden with benches and flowerbeds, trellises and hedges, fairies and a fountain. (Getting the fountain to work had taken her longer than she cared to admit.)</p>
<p>‘Well, no matter,’ she thought. Now would be an opportune time to put in a call to Julie anyway. Lifting the worm hotel, she made her way back into the castle.</p>
<p>Inside was a frenzy of activity with so many visitors and celebration for Enid. Dimity clutched the worm farm just a bit tighter as she made her way through the sea of people. Behind her, a velvety voice cut through the crowd.</p>
<p>“Excuse me. Aren’t you Dimity Drill?”</p>
<p>Dimity turned, “Yes, that’s me…” and trailed off as she locked eyes with Rania Rook, headmistress at Mount Broom. “Oh my stars. You’re Rania Rook.”</p>
<p>Rania grinned. “Guilty. But you, you’re the Star of the Sky. It’s truly an honour to meet you.”</p>
<p>Dimity felt like her spine was going to melt. “Likewise. Er, I take it you’re here to watch the qualifiers.”</p>
<p>“Mmh. Among other things.”</p>
<p>“Other things?” Dimity asked.</p>
<p>“Well, of course, I’m here to scout for Mount Broom, but I also couldn’t resist the prospect of meeting <em>the</em> Dimity Drill. It seems a happy coincidence that my motives have become so intertwined. You’ve discovered a great sporting talent in young Enid.”</p>
<p>Dimity blushed, not for the first time. “I’m glad you think so, but the credit really ought to go to Miss Hempnettle,” she said, gesturing to the worm hotel.</p>
<p>Rania’s brow furrowed in puzzlement as she looked between Dimity and the terrarium. “I’m sorry, does the… What does… What is this?” She bent to examine the worm hotel more closely.</p>
<p>Dimity chuckled a bit nervously. “Well, Miss Hempnettle and I have a… complicated history, and the short version is that she tried to cheat so that Enid would lose the race to the girls she had trained, so I turned her into a worm until I can get her to the Games Committee.”</p>
<p>From her bent position, Rania’s eyes met Dimity’s, unreadable, and for a moment, Dimity’s blood ran cold. But, then a smile spread across Rania’s face and she started laughing.</p>
<p>“I like the way you think, Miss Drill. This certainly explains Enid’s setback during the race.”</p>
<p>“Yes! She would have won by a long shot had her performance not been tampered with. Her comeback is a testament to her determination,” Dimity gushed.</p>
<p>Rania studied Dimity for a moment and then said, “I’d like to discuss Enid’s future.”</p>
<p>“Of course!” Dimity agreed. “But first, I’d really like to get Miss Hempnettle up to my room; this is rather heavy.”</p>
<p>“I could carry it for you if you’d like.”</p>
<p>“Why, Miss Rook,” Dimity teased, feeling bold, “are you proposing to see me back to my quarters?”</p>
<p>This time, it was Rania who blushed as she chuckled, “I should be so lucky.”</p>
<p>She took the worm hotel from Dimity, and the pair made their way toward the staff hall, enthusiastically discussing Enid’s path forward as an athlete.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was soon decided that Miss Rook would offer Enid a scholarship to Mount Broom (despite her record of misdemeanors. “Now that she’s found her niche, she’s a much better student, and more well-behaved,” Dimity argued.), and Enid happily accepted.</p>
<p>After exchanging autographs and several flirting looks, Rania and Dimity parted ways, Rania returning to her own school and Dimity retiring to her room.</p>
<p>After finally placing a mirror call to Julie, Dimity plopped onto her bed with a huff. It had been a long day. Too long, if she was honest—and of course she was. She had the worm to prove it.</p>
<p>She stared at the worm hotel on her nightstand, Miss Rook’s words echoing in her head.</p>
<p>“Miss Hempnettle must be a lucky worm,” Rania had said, her gaze lingering somewhat melancholically on the glass enclosure.</p>
<p>Had she spent too much time on the worm hotel? Maybe she should have simply added some dirt to the original jar and called it a day. Sure, she and Arabella had once been something of an item for gossip, and a rather high-profile one at that, but years had passed, and Arabella had done the unforgivable. Yet, somewhere throughout the years, Dimity had forgiven her. She still didn’t trust her, but she had stopped dwelling on the past, stopped blaming everything on the action that destroyed her career, and instead built a new one. Dimity had moved on.</p>
<p>Although she had to admit, Arabella being hired on as a supply witch had rattled her. Perhaps, she hadn’t been as forgiving as she’d hoped. Dimity kept a close eye on her, criticizing her every move, but slowly recognizing that she had truly brought out the best in some of her students, particularly Enid. For a fleeting moment, she’d even thought that Arabella really had changed, that they could reconcile the wounds of the past, that they could try again. Despite herself, she still wanted to try again.</p>
<p>Instead, Dimity looked at the worm hotel, and simply said, “goodnight Arabella. I’ll take you to the Games Committee’s offices tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Petula Pondwater madly shuffled papers, trying to focus on 5 mirror calls at once whilst placating the restless queue lined up before her. She vehemently hated this time of year. One would think, with magic, the Witch World Games Committee would be better organized, but alas, that was not the case. Finally, she found the stack of documents she sought and manually stamped each one (magical stamps were too simple to forge).</p>
<p>“Yes, Miss Harpchord, I’ll transfer the approved qualifier profiles to your desk immediately. Yes, Mr. Fennel, your husband’s jogging shorts are regulation. Ms. Cattrap, we do not oversee hunting and fishing regulations. You need to contact the Office of Magical Game and Wildlife. No, I cannot redirect your call. Please use the magical switchboard. Mx Longfellow, Mr. Reticule, will you please continue to hold? Thank you.” Petula gusted out a sigh and shut her eyes for three seconds before looking up at the next person in line. She painted on a smile. “How can I help you?”</p>
<p>The woman before her had a terrarium on the counter. She’d seen stranger.</p>
<p>“Hi, Miss Hempnettle cheated in the cross-country qualifiers yesterday, so I’m here to turn her over to the Games Committee to be reprimanded,” the woman said.</p>
<p>Petula was puzzled. “And… where is she?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I turned her into a worm. She’s in here,” she gestured to the terrarium.</p>
<p>“I see.” She’d still seen stranger. “Take this complaint form,” she said, handing the woman a clipboard and pen, “and fill it out. Bring it and your worm back when you’ve finished.”</p>
<p>The woman barely managed to thank her, before Petula called out, “next!”</p>
<p>About 20 minutes later, the woman appeared again with everything in order. Petula quickly filed the form and set the terrarium on her desk.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Miss Drill.”</p>
<p>The woman seemed concerned. “Please, look after her.”</p>
<p>This gave Petula pause. “You care for her?”</p>
<p>The woman hesitated. “Against my better judgement, yes.”</p>
<p>Petula softened, gave the woman her undivided attention. “I’ll do my best,” she said earnestly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Five hours and 342 requests later, the office finally closed for incoming calls and in-person requests. Unfortunately, Petula still had two hours until her workday was over. She spent the first hour processing requests and profiles, filing paperwork, and delivering documents to different committee members. The second hour was spent in an office-wide debriefing.</p>
<p>After the meeting, Leticia from accounting drifted over to Petula. “Hello, my flower,” she said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “How was your day?”</p>
<p>“You know how it was,” Petula said with a grimace. “I still have way too much left to do.”</p>
<p>“You poor thing,” Leticia cooed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”</p>
<p>Petula started to say no, but then a thought struck her. “You know what? Yes. There’s a worm on my desk that needs to be taken downstairs on cheating charges. Do you think you could do that while I finish up a couple of things here?”</p>
<p>“Of course, darling.”</p>
<p>“You’re the best. I love you.” Petula kissed her wife, and the two of them set to work.</p>
<p>The only department that wasn’t slammed right now was accounting. Most financial issues were dealt with prior to qualifier season, so they’d been overworked weeks earlier. It kept a good balance in their relationship.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So," Leticia began, lifting the terrarium and peering inside, "what exactly did this worm do to be put in worm jail?"</p>
<p>Petula tried to stifle a smile. "She cheated in junior qualifiers. A woman who I presume to be an ex turned her into a worm in retaliation."</p>
<p>"Ooo, saucy. Well, I'd better get her downstairs."</p>
<p>The whole trip took Leticia about twenty minutes. No one had been in the Sportsmanship Complaints office, so Leticia left the worm and complaint form along with an emphatic note reminding them that the worm was indeed a human. She returned to Petula just as she was finishing up her paperwork and straightening her desk.</p>
<p>As the two left the office, Petula asked, “how do you feel about Atlantean cuisine tonight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dimity started worrying the moment she left the office building. She worried on her walk back to the tube, and on the tube, and on the bus, and on her walk to Julie’s for a well-deserved break from travel. It wasn’t easy to traverse the city the Ordinary way, particularly with her limp. Thankfully, when Dimity arrived, Julie was ready with a soothing cup of tea and a proverbial shoulder to cry on.</p>
<p>“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Julie said later as they sat on the couch, their second cups of tea growing cold on the coffee table. “What’s on your mind?”</p>
<p>Dimity sighed looking down at her hands. “I just can’t stop thinking about her. I mean, what if something goes wrong, or, Merlin-forbid, they misplace her? What if they choose to leave her as a worm? What if she never gets to be human again? What if being wormed for so long has lasting negative effects? I don’t want to hurt her, Julie. She was my best friend.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, your best friend who seriously injured you and stole your title,” Julie demurred.</p>
<p>“I can’t dwell on that,” Dimity argued. “Yes, she changed my life, but I’m happy. I love teaching at Cackle’s.”</p>
<p>“But she tampered with that too! She manipulated your students and you and then stole from you, and it was all because of the injury she gave you. How does that not bother you?”</p>
<p>“It does! It does bother me, but…well, she was right about some things. She saw a true sporting talent in Enid that I missed, and she encouraged her in ways that I fundamentally would not have considered. I think that if things had been different, we could have been a good team.”</p>
<p>Julie reached out and rubbed Dimity’s shoulder. “I know what you mean.”</p>
<p>Dimity looked up, a small grateful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Julie was nodding sagely. “You think she’s bang tidy,” Julie concluded.</p>
<p>Dimity snorted out a laugh and chuckled for a while before fading off into a breathy, “yeahhh… Maybe a bit.”</p>
<p>Julie gave Dimity a sympathetic smile. “Give them a mirror call tomorrow morning. Make sure your girl is well-cared for,” she said. “But hey, don’t cut her too much slack. You deserve better than that backstabber.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Julie, for the tea and for the chat. I really needed that,” Dimity said.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome, love. I’m always here for you if you need me.” The two women smiled at each other, and Dimity rose to her feet.</p>
<p>“I’d best be off then,” she said. “Can’t miss the bus.”</p>
<p>Julie stood to join her. “Mirror me when you get back, ok?”</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p>Julie pulled Dimity into a tight hug which Dimity returned with equal vigor. They exchanged goodbyes, and soon, Dimity was out the door and on her way to the bus stop that would take her halfway up the mountain.</p>
<p>The walk back to the bus stop was pleasant, evening settling in around her. It felt as if the world were relaxing as the heat of the day abated, and the sunset cast a warm golden glow across the world below. Divine smells wafted down around her from the surrounding households and down the street where a pub was just ramping up for the evening. People, mostly couples, milled about, and Dimity started to wonder about Ordinary life. She’d been pigeonholed into it all day, and while it was starting to wear on her, the Ordinaries strolling down the street seemed perfectly content without magic. Although, Dimity could see the appeal of slowing down, taking time to enjoy one’s commute. She supposed it wasn’t all that different from flying to one place or another. Of course, this was slower and certainly more intimate.</p>
<p>Unbidden, Dimity’s thoughts drifted toward Arabella once again—to the intimacy they used to share when they were broommates. Arabella once clutched Dimity’s arm as they walked shoulder to shoulder, heads bent in conspiratorial whispers. They were relentlessly mischievous, often pranking staff and other students. It’s why Dimity’s mother didn’t want her attending Cackle’s. The best prank they had ever pulled was a levitation spell on the great hall, set to activate when the headmistress entered. The two had crammed themselves into a cupboard and peeked out with glee as every staff member, student, table, and chair shot up into the air and helplessly drifted about. They’d giggled freely, unheard amidst the shrieks and chaos above. Thrilled, Arabella had thrown herself forward, wrapping her arms around Dimity.</p>
<p>“Best prank ever,” she’d whispered into Dimity’s ear.</p>
<p>They kept watching the havoc they’d wreaked, themselves a jumble of limbs, close, intimate. Dimity’d had some kind of feeling she couldn’t identify then, and now, a distant memory, she could only guess at a name for it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning came suddenly for Dimity who’d gotten very little sleep. Peculiar and unsettling dreams haunted her, varied in their implausibility, but consistent in subject: Arabella. In the course of the night, Dimity’s imagination had taken her to a sitting room in a hotel for worms in which she partook in tea time with a still wormified Arabella. It remained unclear how either of them lifted their cups. Tea time had slipped foggily into visions of Arabella’s confining jar smashing to the ground over and over, glass piercing her soft worm body. She’d run down hallways searching through rows and rows of jars for the right worm but never finding her. Another vision saw hundreds of worms being cast into a potion, one of which was certainly Arabella.</p>
<p>Dimity awoke to the soft blue light of morning seeping across the sky and melting the shadows in her room. Sleep would not find her again. An uncomfortable knot sat in her stomach leaving her tense and rather sore. Rolling out of bed, she unfurled her yoga mat and set to stretching. It had been her morning ritual for decades.</p>
<p>She and Arabella used to do it together.</p>
<p>Dimity sighed and bent at the waist, focusing on the pleasant pull in her hamstrings and calves before slowly straightening back up, aligning her back, imagining her vertebrae stacking one on top of the next. As she came back up to a standing position, she rolled back her shoulders and lifted her head, feeling taller.</p>
<p>Imagining Arabella standing before her.</p>
<p>Dimity closed her eyes, and arced her left arm over her head, right hand on her hip, legs apart. Yet, the image of Arabella permeated her eyelids, the long lines of her body burned into Dimity’s memory. She huffed. This wasn’t going to work.</p>
<p>So, she sat down and stretched the most pertinent muscles before rolling up her mat and getting ready to take a shower. Most days, she’d settle for a shower spell as she wasn’t a particularly early riser, but today, she had some time to kill and some muscles to soothe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time she had finished her shower, it was still only half past five, and the sun was toying with the edge of the horizon, as though it were fraying the edge of an unraveling shirtsleeve. The Games Committee offices wouldn’t open for another two and a half hours yet, so Dimity found herself with still more unwanted time on her hands.</p>
<p>Her stomach growled. Perhaps Miss Tapioca had left something out in the dining hall. Dimity had never been up this early on the weekend, so she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t even be certain anyone was awake yet. Hecate presumably was, but Dimity was never entirely convinced she slept at all. Nevertheless, she made her way down to the dining hall where she found nothing, so she decided to pay a visit to the kitchens.</p>
<p>As she rounded the corner beside the staircase leading to the staff quarters, she bumped into Hecate who made a noise of distinct dissatisfaction.</p>
<p>An apology immediately fell from Dimity’s lips, but Hecate just stared at her.</p>
<p>“HB, are you alright?” she asked.</p>
<p>“You are awake at an auspicious hour. That is…unusual for you,” Hecate drawled, still taken aback at Dimity’s presence.</p>
<p>Dimity gave her a tight smile and glanced downward. “Yeah, well, I didn’t sleep much.”</p>
<p>Hecate nodded stiffly, and shifted uncomfortably, seemingly unsure of how to proceed after having her morning interrupted.</p>
<p>Dimity gestured down the corridor. “I was just going to the kitchens to find something to eat.”</p>
<p>“As was I.”</p>
<p>“Right then. Shall we?”</p>
<p>Hecate hummed softly, and allowed Dimity to take the lead. The pair walked in silence for a while. It was unusual for Hecate to be walking much of anywhere, but Dimity figured she would feel guilty for transferring now.</p>
<p>Dimity glanced over at Hecate. “Are you always up this early?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Yes. Often earlier, I’m afraid,” she replied, and then lapsed back into silence.</p>
<p>Another moment passed.</p>
<p>“I couldn’t sleep,” Dimity said, her mind circling back to her nightmares. “I can’t stop worrying about her. What if she doesn’t know how to survive as a worm? What if she doesn’t know how to eat or find food? What if the Games Committee misplace her or neglect her? What if they can’t change her back? What if they do change her back and there are harmful after effects?” Dimity prattled on and on, her step slowing and breath quickening.</p>
<p>Hecate came to a halt beside her. “Miss Drill… Miss Drill… Dimity.” There was no response in her walking companion, and as averse as she was to touch, Hecate reached out and placed a hand on Dimity’s shoulder.</p>
<p>The utter shock of Hecate Hardbroom touching her in any capacity brought Dimity’s spiral to a screeching halt.</p>
<p>“I will assist you,” Hecate said, “with alleviating your concerns, provided that you stop talking.”</p>
<p>“You? You’re offering to help me?” Dimity asked, tearing her eyes away from Hecate’s hand.</p>
<p>Hecate sighed. “You have helped me many times in the past. I should like to return the favor. Besides, I do have some experience with traversing the return of an…old flame.”</p>
<p>And, with that, she withdrew her hand and continued walking toward the kitchens. Dimity stared after her in stunned silence for a moment more before hobbling after her.</p>
<p>The kitchens were tidy, but on the table was an assortment of fruit and a pack of Witches’ Brew crackers. Hecate plucked a banana from the pile and proceeded to set about brewing tea for herself and making toast. Dimity followed suit, adding her slice of bread to the oven beside Hecate’s. She withdrew a small pot of beans reserved for staff from the fridge and snatched the crackers from the table before hoisting herself up onto one of the counters to wait for her toast. Hecate shot her a look.</p>
<p>“What?” she said around a mouthful of cracker.</p>
<p>Hecate didn’t respond, merely rolling her eyes—albeit without her typical exasperation—and continuing to set the tea tray with a pair of cups. Dimity watched Hecate as she worked, methodically mixing loose tea ingredients for a perfect blend. Hecate’s hands had always been rather mesmerizing. When she was young and had holidays off school, she would visit her mother at Cackle’s. Hecate was, of course, much younger then, but she had never not been present. Although, Dimity could say with some certainty that she was now far less melancholic than she was in those days. Now that she knew why, Dimity understood that terribly tragic young woman whose long fingers fidgeted endlessly at the dinner table although she sat ramrod straight, eyes fixed on some unspecified point in the distance.</p>
<p>Hecate’s hands when spellcasting then had been staunchly utilitarian, precise, calculated, as though they were illustrations in Dimity’s beginners’ spellbook. Now, after so many years, Hecate had introduced flair into her spellcasting — into her everything, really. It was as if some heavy burden had been lifted from her, and she was capable of breathing for the first time in her life.</p>
<p>The timer sounded for their toast, drawing Dimity from her reverie.</p>
<p>“Would you get that, please?” Hecate asked, preoccupied with the tea.</p>
<p>Dimity got down from her perch, spinning dramatically with her cane to snatch a plate from the cupboard to her right. Still focused on the tea, Hecate went unimpressed, and Dimity chuckled having entertained herself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a decidedly unusual and quiet breakfast, Dimity and Hecate parted ways. There was still quite some time before the Games office opened, and Hecate needed some time to prepare for the possibility of leaving Cackle’s and having to interact with…people.</p>
<p>Dimity found herself back in her room, lying on her bed, tossing a ball at the ceiling. In all honesty, she’d much prefer to be flying laps around the school or playing witchball to pass the time, but alas, she was relegated to minimal physical activity and thus to this unsatisfying exercise in hand-eye coordination.</p>
<p>Recovery from the initial injury had been arduous. She felt like she was relearning everything she’d ever known. And, to some extent, she was. She had to relearn how to walk and fly and perform magic. She had to build up her strength and tap into a certain level of patience that she’d never had to use before. It had been the frustration that inspired her to become a teacher like her mum. Growing up, she had always been firmly opposed to the idea, but with a career in professional competition slipping away in an instant, and the unbridled compassion of her therapists, she began to see the appeal.</p>
<p>“You know,” Dimity’s mother had said when Dimity sheepishly mentioned that she’d been considering teaching, “you’ve been teaching for years.” Dimity’d shot her a puzzled look. “Every time you’ve helped a newcomer or given constructive criticism, you’ve been teaching. Trust your instincts, Dimity Diana Drill. You’re a natural.”</p>
<p>Dimity’s ball landed in her face, and she pursed her lips in disapproval. The ball fell with a soft plop onto the floor and rolled away under her bureau, and Dimity flopped back onto her bed with an irritated huff. She glanced at her clock again: still only seven. She groaned. This was going to be a long hour.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At 7:53, Dimity was sat in front of her mirror, posed to activate the call at precisely eight. Seconds ticked by. Dimity flexed her fingers and tried to steady her nerves. Arabella was fine. Petula had promised to take care of her, and she was fine. She had to be. Seconds ticked by. Images flashed through Dimity’s mind. A wriggling worm dangled over a simmering cauldron. A shattered terrarium. A worm with a cup of tea. Arabella falling and falling and falling. Dimity shook her head. No. Arabella was fine. It had only been one night. She was safe. Everything was fine. Arabella was fine.</p>
<p>3…2…1… Dimity placed the call. Within moments, Petula’s face appeared in the glass.</p>
<p>“Witch World Games Committee. Please hold,” Petula said hurriedly before the Games crest appeared in her place.</p>
<p>“Ugh!” Dimity groaned, slapping her hands on her thighs. She was worried, and, petulant as it felt, she simply didn’t <em>want</em> to wait.</p>
<p>After several minutes that undid all of Dimity’s stress-reducing preparation for the call, Petula’s face reappeared.</p>
<p>“Petula Pondwater. How may I help you?”</p>
<p>“I brought a worm in yesterday. I wanted to make sure she was alright,” the words tumbled out of Dimity like she’d been practicing all night. (She had.)</p>
<p>Recognition flooded Petula’s eyes. “Oh. It’s you. I had her sent down to the Office of Sportsmanship Complaints. If you like, I can call down there and check on her status.”</p>
<p>“Please,” Dimity responded.</p>
<p>Petula gave her a half smile. “Please hold.”</p>
<p>Once again, Dimity found herself staring back into her own reflection behind the Committee crest and was momentarily taken aback by the concern she saw etched on her face. Naturally, she knew she wasn’t exactly the face of calm at the moment, but the sheer vulnerability that bled into her cheeks and rimmed her eyelids was a look she had never seen on herself before. Had she ever looked like this before? Had her students or colleagues ever seen her make this face? Did it scare them as much as it scared her? Had Arabella ever seen this look? Had she ever watched Dimity’s brow knit with worry? Had she ever studied Dimity’s face as intensely as Dimity did now?</p>
<p>There had been so many moments where Dimity found panic rushing up her throat as she watched Arabella push herself harder and harder, anger filling her eyes as she failed once again to match Dimity’s own trial times. She remembered the nights where Arabella had lain in bed, muscles twitching, teeth gritted, clearly in pain from working herself too hard, yet staunchly refusing to acknowledge that fact.</p>
<p>Dimity remembered that one fateful night when she should have known, should have grasped the depth of Arabella’s frustration. It had been their second year at university, and they were getting close to qualifiers for that year’s Witch World Games.</p>
<p>
  <em>She could see the muscles in Arabella’s back ripple as they spasmed under her skin. Arabella sat on her own bed wearing her sports bra, facing away from Dimity trying to conceal the agony she was enduring. She’d been stewing silently for nearly an hour, and from where she was sitting, Dimity could see that she was clenching her teeth, the prominent muscle of her jaw set.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>After the stifling silence punctured only by soft, sharp hitches of Arabella’s breath every time her muscles twitched, Dimity couldn’t take it anymore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Arabella, please stop torturing yourself,” she implored. “Here, I have an antispasmodic salve, or a general pain relief potion.” Arabella didn’t respond, but Dimity could see her jaw working again, fidgeting with whatever response her pain-addled brain could devise. After a long moment, Dimity continued, albeit haltingly. “Or… I could rub your back, if you like.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It was then that Arabella wrenched around. There was a fire, a hardness in her eyes that startled Dimity. “You don’t want to help me!” Arabella hissed, her warm Welsh lilt turning venomous. “You just want me to lull me into a false sense of security. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that we’re competitors. We’re not teammates, Dimity, and I don’t want your help!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With what must have been agonizing effort, she shoved herself off of her bed and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Dimity felt tear tracks running down her face and was vaguely aware that she was shaking. She hardly new how to process the emotions she usually felt when she thought about Arabella let alone whatever in Merlin’s name had just happened. So, she didn’t.</em>
</p>
<p>In hindsight, she had been deluding herself to simply chalk her broommate’s outburst up to pain and anxiety. She knew now, so many years later, that Arabella had believed every word she’d said that night. Pushing Dimity off her broom had been no accident. Perhaps a hasty action taken in the heat of competition, but intentional nonetheless. Dimity only wished she’d recognized Arabella’s emotions for what they were. She wished that she’d recognized her own emotions for what they were.</p>
<p>She wondered if Arabella had loved her too.</p>
<p>“Miss Drill,” Petula’s voice brought Dimity’s attention back to the mirror in front of her. Petula’s face was drawn in panic, and the color had faded from her cheeks. Dimity felt dread settle in her stomach.</p>
<p>“Oh my giddy bats, what’s happened?”</p>
<p>Petula glanced up and for a moment looked like she was going to pass out. “The Complaints office says they didn’t receive anyone for reprimand. They aren’t sure where she is.”</p>
<p>Adrenaline coursed through Dimity’s veins as she seized her cane, ending the call as Petula hastily tried to console Dimity and assure her that finding Arabella would be her only priority until the prone worm was found.</p>
<p>Dimity tore down the hall toward Hecate’s quarters, barely noticing her limp as she went.</p>
<p>“Hecate!’ she roared as she drew close to the deputy’s door.</p>
<p>Hecate materialized beside her, stoic as ever, but perhaps more tense than usual.</p>
<p>Dimity fixed her with a demanding stare. “Transfer us to the Games Committee offices. Now.”</p>
<p>And with a twist of Hecate’s hand, they vanished.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is a bit hasty, but here's to hoping that subsequent chapters will be more indulgent.</p>
<p>If you enjoyed, let me know! I'd love to hear from you! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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